The Berlin Blockade
by BookWurm15
Summary: The year is 1948. Moscow has taken West Berlin hostage. London and Washington DC are providing as much aid as they can, but it doesn't help to keep West Berlin from reflecting on the past few years in a negative light. This will take a few chapters.
1. Chapter 1

_"What do we do with them this time?"_

_"We can't do the same things we did in the Great War."_

_"Yeah, look at how well that worked out."_

_"We could divide the country. That might work."_

_"It's the best idea. It divides their strength."_

_"So we are dividing the nation? Fine, but you all owe me. I was the one that helped with the Eastern front. I will take the east. All of it."_

_"…Fine. The capital should be divided. Since you want the east, take Leona."_

_"N-No!"_

_"I don't care what you do with him. Just keep him away from me."_

_"I'm long distance, plus I've got the Pacific to worry about."_

_"Then I guess he'll stay with me."_

_"The nation needs to grow strong again. We need to release our claims on the city and the land."_

_"I agree; nothing good ever comes from being divided."_

_"You try to make Germany powerful again, and I will take drastic action."_

_"London? Is that you?_

_"M-Moscow?_

_"W-where are we going?_

Alaric huddled in the corner of the room. It may have been late June, but he shivered in the heat. Not eating for three days may have contributed to that.

"I… I guess I deserve this," he grimaced. He didn't bother smoothing back his hair; it would only get tousled again.

It was useless trying to get out, he knew. There was only one door, and it was locked. He'd spent all of his second day in the cell pulling at the iron handle. The only thing he could do was listen to his stomach growl and try to sleep.

He wasn't expecting to hear anything, much less the sound of someone calling for him.

"Psst!" a voice called. "Alaric? You in there?"

The obnoxious voice was unmistakable. "Lee?" he whispered, swinging his head around. "What- how? Why?"

The American's young face peeked in through the small, barred window. He looked tense, and glanced over his shoulder every so often, as if he were being watched. Washington DC tossed something in through the bars. It landed near Alaric with a _thud_.

Warily, West Berlin unwrapped it, and found a hamburger inside. Not his first choice of a meal, but anything looked appetizing on an empty stomach. He cast his gaze to the window again. "Why are you helping me?" he called softly. "After everything I've done?"

DC glanced over his shoulder again before answering. "To tell you the truth? I forgive you."

"Y-you do?"

"Yeah. You seemed genuinely sorry for everything you did, and that's good enough for me. Plus, I've got a bit of sympathy for anyone taken by Moscow." He swallowed and glanced at his watch. "I'll be back in a few hours to give you dinner. Can't have you too well-fed," he joked. "London might stop by too."

"_London_?" Alaric blinked in disbelief. "Why would he want to help me? I mean, you, I understand. But…"

The younger boy shrugged. "He said he wanted to help you. I guess he acknowledges you're really sorry and all. I think he might have forgiven you for the crap you did, but I don't think he trusts you. Besides, he doesn't like to see anyone in trouble."

"But… I…" _I bombed parts of the city until there was only rubble. I was ruthless. I took his girlfriend away and mentally, and physically, messed her up._ "How can he forgive me? I can barely forgive myself."

DC bit his lip. "It's a funny thing, forgiveness. It's easier to forgive when you live with someone, I think." He was referring to the fact that West Berlin had lived with London for the past few months; Paris and DC each had a claim on West Berlin, but Paris didn't want anything to do with him, and DC was still in a war. "And when they make you face what you've done, and see how you react… It lets people see how you really feel."

"_You have to take responsibility for the hell you've caused_," London had said.

Those camps… He'd never really understood the horror until the British city had shown him up close.

"_Weißt du, wo mein Sohn ist? Mein Mann? Ich habe sie nicht in so lange nicht gesehen!_" a woman had cried. She was little more than skin and bone, and yet her pleading hold on his arm had paralyzed Alaric. The fear in her eyes, that she would never see her husband and son again. The piles and piles of bodies, ashes... It was all his fault. And why? He couldn't answer. He hadn't flinched when London had decked him across the face, glaring the whole time. He'd deserved it.

Why?

Why had he done this?

"Alaric?" DC cocked his head. "Are you okay? You look like you're going to puke, and you haven't even touched your burger."

"Lee," Alaric swallowed, wrapping his arms around his knees. "I… I really didn't know how far it was taken. Honest." He had never been to any of the camps in Poland, not before London had taken him there.

Lee sighed. "I know. But you knew about some of it. Look, chin up. We'll talk about this when Moscow stops being a dick and lets you go. Eat, quick, and toss your wrapper out the window or something."

Alaric shook his head. "I'm actually not really hungry."

DC nodded sagely. "That's what someone who hasn't eaten in a while _always_ says. You've gotten used to the hunger pangs, I take it. You have to eat when you can; what use are you to anyone if you starve to death?"

West Berlin chuckled dryly. "It's probably _better_ for everyone if I'm dead."

DC clenched his teeth. "If you don't take at least _one_ bite of that burger, I will come in there and force it down your throat."

West Berlin threw his hands up in surrender. "Fine, you win!" He bit into the hamburger, and DC smiled.

"Awesome. Finish quick, but not too quick," he added. "Wouldn't want your stomach to explode."

West raised an eyebrow. "Don't ask," DC shook his head.

Alaric finished, and handed DC the wrapper. "Thank you," he lowered his gaze.

DC stretched his arm through the bars in the window, and put his hand on the older boy's shoulder. "Don't worry about it, buddy. Be back later. Don't want that jackass Commie catching me." The last West Berlin saw of DC was a tuft of spiky brown hair, and he was gone.

Alone again, he sighed and slid down the wall of the cell. Why did he have so much time to think? It made him even more upset. He buried his face in his knees, and wasn't sure when sleep overtook him, but soon everything was dark.


	2. Chapter 2

"Alaric. Wake up." The voice was familiar; firm and always meaning business. West Berlin cracked an eye open to see a serious face peering in through the window. His green eyes gleamed, and he held a paper bag.

"I'm not hungry."

"It's not enough that Moscow is trying to starve you, is it, because you want to starve yourself too?" London raised an eyebrow. "Who will that help?"

"Everyone," he whispered.

"Spare me your dramatics." The Brit rolled his eyes in exasperation. "Lee already filled me in on your low self-esteem issues. Now, are you going to keep yourself healthy, or do I need to cut right to the threats?"

"_Mein Gott_, you don't give up, do you?"

At that, Todd grinned, even if it was only a hint of one. "Never have, never will."

Alaric sighed. "Alright. But is-"

"Don't worry your oddly-colored head about it. Your city is being well taken care of. The Berlin Airlift is a success; flights take off at all hours of the day, and return only to go back."

"Really?" West Berlin was surprised. "You… You're actually helping me?" He hadn't completely believed Lee before; he had a tendency to stretch the truth.

"Don't make me regret it," London scowled. "But yes." He dropped the bag through the window. "Hopefully, this'll hold you over until morning."

"What is it?" He had heard the rumors that London couldn't cook to save anyone's life, so, frankly, he was afraid. Apparently it showed in his voice, because Todd grit his teeth.

"Relax," London said. "Paris made it. With a lot of prodding," he added. "But she made it."

That didn't make West feel much better. The minute London had named the French city, fresh guilt washed over him, and he averted his gaze.

London raised an eyebrow. "We _thought_ you'd appreciate some… they're pronounced 'knishes,' right?"

West flashed a tiny smile. "Thank you."

Todd nodded. "You're welcome. You don't look so good," he noted. A touch of sympathy crept into his face. "Do you feel alright?"

"I guess. Haven't been sleeping well."

Todd sighed. "Happens to the best of us. Just… Keep a clear head, alright? I'll be back, I promise."

"I'll be here," Alaric mumbled. He nibbled a knish, and drifted off into an uneasy sleep.

_"Well, this is just great." The Axis cities were huddled in a locked room in the basement of the house, chosen to make the agreements. The door was locked; they had tried to open it already. Leona leaned against a wall, exasperated._

_"That we lost, or that we got caught?" Alaric raised an eyebrow._

_"Both," his sister said after a pause._

_Rome sighed and crossed his arms as he sat next to Tokyo on the floor. "How could we have been so stupid?" he muttered._

_Alaric shrugged. "I guess we just wanted our time to shine."_

_"For once," Leona chimed in._

_The room settled into silence again. Alaric turned his ears upward to hear the conversation on the floor above._

_"So Lee will handle the Pacific," London was saying. "That still leaves the issue with Germany."_

_"What do we do with them this time?" Moscow asked._

_"We can't do the same things we did in the Great War," London admitted._

_"Yeah, look at how well that worked out," Washington DC snorted._

_"We could divide the country. That might work."_

_Alaric met Leona's gaze. She was bristling in rage._

_"It's the best idea. It divides their strength."_

_"So we are dividing the nation? Fine, but you all owe me. I was the one that helped with the Eastern front. I will take the east. All of it." Moscow's tone was forceful; he wasn't one to be argued with._

_"…Fine. The capital should be divided too."_

_"What?" the Berlin twins cried in unison._

_"Which one is east, and which one is west?"_

_"Don't we get a say in this?" Leona shrieked._

_"Moscow, since you want the east, take Leona."_

_"N-No!" Alaric gasped._

_"If that is all, I will be on my way." A chair slid; Moscow was getting up._

_"We're going to be separated!" Alaric cried._

_Leona was curled into a ball on the floor. "Don't let the Commie take me!" she whimpered, tears streaming down her face. Alaric was frightened; Leona never acted like this. He dashed over, sat down, and put his arms around her._

_"It's going to be alright," he murmured, his own eyes welling with tears. "I won't let him take you, Lona."_

_The door slid open. Rome and Tokyo didn't move a muscle. Moscow stood in the doorway._

_"You," he pointed at Leona. "You are coming with me."_

_Leona shook her head, clutching at her brother's arm._

_Moscow sighed, and stepped inside. He grabbed Leona by the arm, and started dragging her away._

_"No!" Alaric roared, lunging after him. "Get your hands off my sister!"_

_Alexei kicked him in the stomach, sending him reeling. He got his balance back quickly, and raced to the door-_

_-which closed in his face._

_He heard Leona screaming as she was dragged down the hall. "Stop it! Bring her back!" Alaric pounded on the door, sobbing. Finally, he began to hiccup and slid down the door to the floor. He buried his face in his hands._

_"Ah, to be young again," Rome sighed, shaking his head._

_"He is seventeen- he should not be crying," Tokyo scowled._

_Rome shrugged at him. "I'm twenty-five, and I was getting upset like that only a few decades ago."_

_"It is a sign of weakness."_

_"To be able to let your feelings out like that? No. It's a sign of strength."_

_Alaric didn't hear anything, not even when the remaining Allies upstairs were arguing about his fate._

_"I don't care what you do with him. Just keep him away from me," Paris snapped._

_"I'm long distance, plus I've got the Pacific to worry about," the shrug was apparent in DC's voice._

_London didn't respond for a while, but it was evident that he was not pleased. "Then I guess he'll stay with me."_

_Alaric yawned and stared at the ceiling. The tiny bedroom was dark in the morning; always was. He'd gotten used to it._

_He always got up before London. A forcive habit, maybe. He didn't know._

_West swung his legs out of the bed and shivered as his feet hit the cold wood floor. He tiptoed quietly to the kitchen, and winced as the cupboard door creaked. He rifled through its contents before he heard a voice._

_"What are you doing?"_

_Todd stood in the doorway in a t-shirt and loose pants. He looked tired, and he rubbed his right eye with his fist._

_"I got hungry," Alaric admitted sheepishly._

_"It's early."_

_"Time zone differences, I think. Sorry, I'm not used to staying here just yet."_

_"Understandable." London yawned and stretched. "I'll be leaving soon. Should be back this afternoon. Don't break anything," he added as an afterthought._

_"I won't," Alaric promised._

_London was back sooner than Alaric had expected. He heard the car screech outside, and went to the window. Todd slammed the car door, and stormed towards his apartment building. What's his problem?_

_"Back so soon? Where'd you go?"_

_"Poland," Todd snapped, glaring at Alaric._

_West Berlin was confused; He had thought London was beginning to be more civil towards him. "What happened?"_

_"I'll show you." The British capital grit his teeth. "Come with me."_

_They landed in Poland a few hours later, and got a car to their destination. Alaric tried to ask where they were going, but Todd only glared out the window._

_"Do you recognize any of this?" he finally said._

_Alaric looked out the window. They were, from what he could tell, in the middle of nowhere. "Nope. I've really only been to Warsaw. Leona came here a lot more than I did."_

_Todd nodded, and fell silent again._

_The car rolled to a stop in front of train tracks and an iron gate. "What does that say?" Todd asked, jerking his head toward the writing on the gates._

_"Arbeit macht frei," Alaric recited, a lump rising in his throat. "Work makes free."_

_London nodded. "I thought so. Come on." He stepped out of the car, and West Berlin followed him._

_At first, Alaric gagged from the smell of the place. When he got used to it, he followed London inside the gates. "Where are we?" he asked again._

_"Auschwitz." Todd replied emotionlessly._

_It was hard to describe the feelings that washed over him as he walked through Auschwitz. People, little more than skeletons, crowded in alleys and clearings. Soldiers were giving them small bits of food. Alaric recognized the American capital city, Washington DC, holding a thin woman in his arms, murmuring something to her as he gave her a small piece of chocolate._

_As he watched, the woman appeared to beg for more. DC shook his head, tears welling in his eyes. "If I give you more," he was saying. "You may die!"_

_Alaric gasped as he felt a hand on his arm. He whirled around and found himself face to face with a middle-aged woman with sunken eyes and a shaved head. "Weißt du, wo mein Sohn ist? Mein Mann? Ich habe sie nicht in so lange nicht gesehen!" she wailed to him. Do you know where my son is? My husband? I haven't seen them in so long!_

_"I-I don't-" Alaric stammered. "I'm sorry, Frau, I'm sorry-"_

_Tears streamed down her face. "Drescher," she begged again, hoping her last name would help._

_He shook his head, but couldn't wrench his arm free of her grasp. Other women came over and murmured to her, taking her away._

_West Berlin felt nauseous. He followed London through the camp, noting how indifferent the older boy was to the piles of bodies, the screams of people being helped by Allied soldiers._

_"Hey! You!" he cried, suddenly drawing his gun and running forward. Alaric gave him some space, but stayed on his heels._

_A Nazi soldier had a rifle aimed at a small girl, maybe six or seven years old. Alaric watched as Todd, in one motion, wrapped a protective arm around her while aiming his gun at the soldier. "Drop it!" he snarled, and the man obeyed._

_"Don't shoot!" he cried in German, holding his palms up. "I was just following orders!"_

_Still holding the little girl, Todd cocked the hammer on his gun._

_"Todd!" Alaric cried. "He says he was just following orders! Don't shoot him!"_

_The look that London gave him made his heart freeze. "I just saw this man shoot four people with one bullet. Following orders… is no excuse for murder." He pulled the trigger._


	3. Chapter 3

West Berlin woke up screaming. Cold sweat dripped down his forehead. He felt wood all around; he was still in the Soviet Union's cell for him.

"Keep it down!" a gruff voice shouted, pounding on the door.

"Alaric?" a new voice whispered. West Berlin turned his head, and saw a small crack in the wall.

"Hallo?" he called into it. "Who's there?"

"Katerina," the voice came again. "What are you doing here? I thought Moscow only took Leona."

"Yes," Alaric admitted. "But the Allies wanted to unify West Germany, so Moscow took me here."

"I'm sorry to hear that," Prague sighed. "Is he at least feeding you?"

"No."

"No? And how long have you been here?"

"About a week or so. I lost track."

"You must be starving!"

"Not necessarily," West Berlin couldn't help smiling. "I've been getting a bit of help."

Prague was silent for a moment. "From who? Washington DC, right?"

"And London."

"Really?" She sounded surprised.

"Yeah, I know. Hard to believe, huh?"

"Well, after the way you treated him, I would be surprised." West thought he heard a note of hostility in Prague's voice.

"Katerina," Alaric whispered. "I am _so_ sorry, for everything I've done to you."

"From what I heard, you were worse to Paris and Brussels."

"I-"

"Alaric, it's alright."

"But-"

"Let me finish, please. I do forgive you for invading Czechoslovakia, and my brother does too."

"Why-"

"_Alaric_! I do _not_, however, forgive you for coming in and slaughtering my people like cattle. Bombing my city was unacceptable too."

"I know."

"I- wait, you know?"

He nodded, then realized that Prague couldn't see him. "Yes. I was terrible to you, and I apologize."

"Oh." Prague paused before responding. "That was… easier than I thought."

"Katerina, do you know where my sister is?"

"I see her every so often, Alaric. At least, before Moscow threw me in here for a rebellion."

"How is she? Is she alright?"

"Who would have thought you'd care about someone else that much, eh?"

Alaric tightened his jaw. She was avoiding the answer. "Tell me, please."

Katerina sighed. "Do you want the truth?"

"Yes."

"She's not well."

"Sick?"

"More like mentally unstable."

West Berlin couldn't believe what he was hearing. Leona was always so strong, so sane. He would admit he had seen some signs after the German defeat, but he would never imagine that his sister…

"Alaric?"

"I'm here."

"Are _you_ alright?"

"I don't know."

They stayed silent for a while.

"Katerina?"

"Yes?"

"Where is Moscow keeping her?"

Prauge thought a moment. "I don't know, Alaric," she sighed. "Why don't you just get some rest? You need your strength."

"You're right. I'm sorry for bothering you."

"Don't apologize."

Alaric felt himself slipping into sleep once more, and tried to fight it, but his eyes closed in surrender.

_The chords of Brahms Lullaby floated in and out of Alaric's ears. It helped him keep his head. An unfamiliar bedroom, an unfamiliar nation… the German melody kept him going._

_The tune faltered as West Berlin heard a loud thump from the room over. Silence rang out, uninterrupted, so Alaric began humming again._

_Another thump._

_Alaric swung his legs over the side of the bed and stood up, trying to recall what was in the room next to his._

_Not making a sound, he tiptoed over to the door, wincing when it made a low creak. Alaric rested his hand on the doorknob, drawing back when he heard another loud thump, followed by a muttered, "Shit!"_

_Alaric opened the door a crack and peeked inside._

_Todd Kirkland was shuddering on his bedroom floor, arms shaking violently with the effort of holding up his torso. As West Berlin watched, the English city took a deep breath and reached up to grab onto the bedframe at the foot of his bed. He clenched his teeth and squeezed his eyes shut with the effort of pulling on the metal. His t-shirt rose a little over his stomach, revealing a sewn-up wound, inflicted by a shot from Alaric's sister's gun. All of a sudden, Todd gasped, and clutched his outstretched arm. He fell back to the floor with that same thump, twitching, and swearing under his breath._

_Alaric took a breath, and opened the door wider. Light shone in, illuminating Todd's face, drenched in sweat or tears. The scars Alaric knew they'd given him were somewhat visible beneath his white t-shirt. Todd's mouth was contorted in pain, and his body twisted and curled._

_A voice rang out in his head, a heavy German accent, though the man had come from Austria. 'What are you waiting for, fool?' it hissed. 'He is weak! This is the opportunity you need! Finish him, and bring glory to Germany!'_

_Alaric trembled in fear. How could he be talking to him? The Furher was dead, dead as a doornail. He'd committed suicide in a bunker back in Berlin. There was no way…_

_But as he watched the older boy writhe on the floor, frustrated, no doubt, that he knew he couldn't get up on his own, a sense of sick pride rose in Alaric's throat. _No!_ he wailed internally._ No! No more! I don't want any of this!

_Hitler continued to whisper, and Alaric had to actually hit himself on the head to make the voice go away._

He was your role model,_ he reminded himself as he looked at Todd. _He was the one you looked up to. He had the empire, the respect. Maybe he can help you get that respect back if you just give him a bit of aid.

_He worked up the nerve to say, "Can I help you?"_

_Todd started, as though he hadn't known Alaric was there. His eyes narrowed to slits, and his face instantly relaxed, showing no sign of pain. "Haven't you helped enough?" he said slowly, but there was a coldness to his voice that frightened Alaric._

_"I didn't help in the right way-"_

_"Got that right," Todd muttered._

_"And I apologize sincerely." Alaric sighed. "Please, let me help you up."_

_Todd coughed. "I can manage on my own. I don't need your help."_

_"Todd, you're on the ground, fallen down at least three times. You need help. Please-"_

_"Just go away. I'll be fine." He winced, not backing up his argument well._

_'Finish him!' Hitler cried again._

_"Charlotte?" Alaric cried, backing out of the room and running down the hall. No doubt she'd be in Todd's kitchen. "Charlotte, you here?"_

_"Mon dieu," another bitter voice muttered. "I forgot you lived here. What do you want, âne?"_

_It didn't take an idiot to know that she had called him a jackass. "It's Todd. He needs your help. He wouldn't let me."_

_In an instant, she was up the stairs. "Move!" she snarled, pushing him aside and running to Todd's room._

_"Todd?" she called gently. "You tried to get up again, didn't you?"_

_Alaric didn't hear an answer, so he sidled up to the door, making sure he couldn't be seen. He peeked in through the space between the door and the wall._

_Charlotte was sitting on the floor, holding Todd's head in her lap. The back of her hand was on his forehead. "Todd, you've got a fever."_

_"No," he protested weakly. "I'm fine." He tried to sit up to prove it, but winced and fell back down again. "Okay, maybe not fine."_

_She stroked his forehead, and he closed his eyes._

_"Todd, the Olympics are in two weeks. I don't think-"_

_"Forget it, Charlotte. I'm participating. I have to."_

_"You don't," she insisted. "Your city's in ruins, you can barely walk on your own. How do you expect to host the Summer Olympics, much less play in them?"_

_Todd's voice came in a whisper. "I'll get by. I piloted a plane, and fought in the rest of the war, remember?"_

_"You shouldn't have. Look at these scars!" Alaric saw her pull Todd's neckline down over his chest. A gash shone in the dim light, stretching across his torso. Burns, now that Alaric looked, snaked their way down his right arm and right side. His stomach turned over in horror._

_He swatted her hand away. "I don't care. I… I need to show I'm still strong."_

_Charlotte sighed. "There's no talking you out of this, is there?" Tears shone in her eyes. "You're far too proud for your own good."_

_He chuckled. "Always have been. Help me up."_

_She nodded, and slipped an arm under his, helping him to his feet. She saw Alaric by the door, and narrowed her eyes. "You. What do you want?"_

_Todd turned glassy eyes to where she looked, meeting Alaric's red gaze._

_"I…" Alaric swallowed, pulling on the bottom of his shirt. "I just want to say… I'm sorry. I'm so, so sorry. For everything."_

_"Alaric…" Todd sighed, looking apologetic._

_"You _should_ be," Charlotte growled._

_Alaric took a breath, turned on his heels, and dashed back to the room he'd been staying in._


End file.
